


Whatever it Takes

by OllieCollie



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Brothers, Gen, Injured Johnny, POV Johnny, Whump, episode scene, worried D'avin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25363855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllieCollie/pseuds/OllieCollie
Summary: Johnny’s hurt, and there’s only one way to keep him alive.(John’s POV from S4E2: Johnny Dangerously.)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	Whatever it Takes

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t personally seen much of this show at all. However, Johnny and D’avin are amazing (*cough*and adorable*cough*) and I have a bad habit of writing out random scenes from shows (because why not?). So enjoy these scenes from “Johnny Dangerously” after John reinjures his lung and D’avin and Delle Seyah take drastic measures to save him.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Killjoys. Just having fun. :)

He has no clue how they manage to make the five mile trek to the depot. He’s painfully aware of the fact that his legs seemed to stop working about halfway through the journey; D’avin is practically carrying his limp form as they hurry toward the building sitting in the middle of nowhere in an otherwise empty and barren land. By the time they stumble inside, Johnny’s breaths are nothing more than pained wheezes as he desperately tries to collect enough air in his lungs to keep from passing out.

D’av’s grip around him is firm, his voice a little too loud and commanding as he demands a doctor to look at John’s injury. When the response that they get isn’t the one that D’avin wants, he raises his gun and shoots something—a glass? It’s really too difficult for Johnny to lift his head enough to see what’s going on—to back up the fact that he means business. Typical D’avin, Johnny thinks humorously. The voices around him are overlapping into one big blur, and he’s unable to comprehend or even care about what they’re saying. His breath catches again, and for a moment he panics because he literally _cannot breathe._

Suddenly, they’re moving again, and he feels himself being shifted and laid out on something cold and hard. Large hands press down on his shoulders, squeezing gently. D’avin’s murmuring something to him; words like “okay” and “stay with me” filter through the pounding in his ears. He groans softly and struggles to suck in another breath.

Medical supplies are offered to them, Johnny forces himself to lift his head enough to see what they have to work with. D’avin holds up an object. “Hey, you want the knife?” Johnny immediately shakes his head, the motion jerky and uneven as he grunts.

“No?” D’av drops it and scrabbles through the supply box again. “Straw, you want the straw?” He holds the small plastic tube up to John’s face.

Johnny’s features scrunch up into his “D’av, you are seriously an idiot” face as he shakes his head again and forces out the closest sound to a “no” that he can manage. His brother’s just trying to help, but good grief, he has absolutely no clue what he’s doing.

Johnny vaguely hears Delle Seyah mutter something mildly insulting about him that at any other time he probably would’ve taken serious offense to, but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment.

“Here, he means this.” She rolls her eyes and holds out the syringe-like instrument with a sharp point. 

Johnny has to admit that he’s somewhat skeptical about the idea of having someone with essentially no medical experience put a hole in his chest with that thing, but he doesn’t exactly have a choice right now—unless he wants to die of asphyxiation. He _needs_ air. He clumsily forces his limbs to move and pats his chest with one hand, wordlessly trying to explain what needs to be done. 

Clearly, D’av is not enthralled with the idea of stabbing his brother in the chest with a needle, either—not only does he have not the slightest idea of what he’s doing, it’s probably a painful reminder of another time he’d stuck something sharp into his little brother. Johnny winces—probably not the best memory to dwell on at the moment. 

D’av’s gaze slides from the syringe to his brother and back again. Black spots are dancing at the corners of Johnny’s vision when Delle Seyah finally yanks the syringe from D’avin and haphazardly drives it down into Johnny’s chest. 

The sudden stab causes Johnny to jerk upward and let out some combination of a cough and a pained grunt. Fire blossoms through his chest.

His brother snaps something at Delle Seyah about John not being a pincushion, and she throws back an irritated retort and tosses the syringe aside. Johnny isn’t exactly paying attention to what they’re saying, though; his focus is on the fact that he still can’t breathe. His chest heaves as he gasps for air, his breaths now distinctly wet and painful. He presses his hands over the spot where Delle Seyah had sunk the needle and winces. Making a hole in his chest definitely had not helped. If anything, it was making it more difficult to breathe.

D’avin realizes it, too. He curses and leans in closer to listen to Johnny’s breathing. “We made it worse,” he says grimly. He’s trying to keep his cool, but Johnny can make out the barely-masked panic lying beneath the surface. “I’m so sorry, buddy,” he says as Johnny writhes on the table, still unable to fill his lungs with a decent amount of air. D’av’s hand slips underneath Johnny’s neck, holding his head up slightly. “Hey, hey—we’re gonna get the doctor, he’s gonna fix you, and then we’re gonna find our way back home, okay?”

Ah, there it is. The rushed, rambled words, accompanied by an undertone to D’avin’s voice that Johnny doesn’t often, if ever, hear—fear.

He knows his brother is trying to reassure him, but it’s really not working. John’s just trying to focus on getting enough air into his battered lungs to keep himself alive. It’s a struggle, and both he and D’avin know if they don’t get real help soon...it’s not good.

KJ~KJ~KJ~KJ~KJ

Johnny can’t decide what he thinks when D’avin shakes him awake and explains Delle Seyah’s plan. On one hand, he’d rather die than be turned Hullen. But Dutch...he’d do anything for Dutch, and if that means letting himself be injected with the creepy green plasma to ensure his own survival—albeit leaving him with some serious repercussions as a result—in order to find her, then so be it.

He can tell that D’av is against it. But he can also tell that his big brother knows that there’s nothing else they can do—if John dies, their chances of finding Dutch shrink to practically zero. And losing two members of their close-knit, three-person team doesn’t exactly sound that great. Well, that’s not exactly true, they’ve accumulated quite a few more team members in the recent past, but still. It doesn’t negate the fact that it would be disastrous if they lost two leaders of their cause. Johnny’s thoughts are running into one another as he tries to keep his focus on what’s going on around him. The plasma. Right. They’re going to turn him Hullen. 

He overhears his brother and Delle Seyah exchange a few words, something to do with the amount of plasma they have and imperfect conditions. D’avin firmly tells Delle Seyah that he won’t blame her if it doesn’t work. John doubts that, but he’s unable to voice the thought with a snarky comment because it’s just too hard to breathe right now.

“Hey, John.” D’av’s voice immediately softens as he turns his attention to his brother and leans over him, eyes bright with worry and uncertainty. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Ha, well that’s a good one. Johnny doesn’t _want_ to do this, not at all. His heart flutters with fear at the thought of what being turned Hullen will do to him. “Do it,” he mutters breathily, forcing the words out. “...Dutch.” He knows the name will get his point across to his brother that they need to go through with this plan. They have to. For Dutch—whatever it takes.

D’avin presses his lips together, but nods in understanding. Neither of them really want to do this, but what choice do they have? Their only hope is that they’ll be able to cleanse Johnny once they get out of this God-forsaken place.

John’s gaze catches a flash of green, goopy plasma in the syringe in Delle Seyah’s hands as she gives D’avin instructions. “Turn him over. And hold him. Tight,” she adds.

Johnny moans in pain as he’s shifted. One arm dangles limply over his brother’s shoulder as D’av lifts him slightly and tugs him close. Johnny manages to weakly lift his other arm enough to latch a hand around his wrist behind D’avin’s back.

Although D’av’s hand is steady, holding John’s head still as they wait for Delle Seyah to inject the plasma, his brother’s tension is palpable. John, too, feels his breaths become even more labored than before as the anticipation—or lack thereof—of having a giant needle jabbed into the base of his skull increases.

There’s no countdown, no, “you ready?” or “here we go.” Just silence, and then a sudden, stabbing pain as the syringe penetrates his skin, injecting the plasma into him.

John screams, arching back at the fire burning through the back of his neck. His fingers dig into the leather of D’avin’s jacket and he forces himself to stay conscious.

Time slows to a complete standstill. A strange sensation rushes through Johnny, flowing from his head all the way down to his feet.

The world fades to black.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, please note that I have very little clue as to the details of the show's storyline, so my bad if something didn’t make sense/sounded off. Let’s blame it on Johnny being too out of it from his injuries. ;P 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Drop a comment if you have the time!


End file.
